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Halloween Scarefest Blog Hop: “Bullet”

I’m a day late on this, but thought I’d participate anyhow! The prompt is a 400-or-less word scene with a theme of “Fear.” I interpreted this a little differently, but you’ll see what I mean. I’m cross-posting this on Tales From the Hollow Tree.🙂

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“Bullet”

I seem to hear the crack of the bullet before I feel it. And then I’m pushed back, slammed like I’ve been hit by a fist or a train—not a piece of metal smaller than my pinky toe.

It takes another heartbeat for the pain to hit, searing and screaming its way through me, my whole body on red alert, my blood racing to see what’s wrong, what’s wrong. Only to slip and drain out of me.

I can’t remember where I am or how I got here. Can’t remember the enemy who has shot me, even. Can’t fathom who could hate me so much. All I know now is that I am dying and alone—that there is a hole torn through me and that the poets are right.

My heart pounds harder than I can remember ever having heard it, as if it knows the blood running to leave my system isn’t enough and wants to help—stupid heart! I want to tell it to slow down, but my whole mind is in a panic.

I’m dying.

And that’s when the fear hits me. I’m not afraid to die—so much of my life has been spent on the run, it’s a relief to finally stop—but in that split second, I seem to see all the things that I’ll never do, never have a chance to do, and that scares me. All the time I’ve wasted, all the opportunities that I skipped out on, thinking someday…

All my somedays are lost now, and my foolishness in wasting them is what scares me now.

Maybe I’ll have to answer for it.

Someone screams, and I know I’ve been found. A woman hovers over me, uncertain, saying words I can’t understand in soothing tones. I want to shake her, scream at her. Tell her I’m already gone, not to waste her life. Tell her to go. LIVE. Tell her there’s no time not to.

Welcome!

This is the personal writing blog of Lisa Asanuma, co-founder of Type Set, Inc Editing and Formatting and also of Tales From the Hollow Tree. Lisa is a freelance writer working on her debut novel, which she hopes to have polished for querying by the end of 2012.

When not writing, Lisa is a knitter, crocheter, and all-around stitch-witch, along with a professional bookbinder.

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Free Shorts

These are free short reads I've posted on TALES FROM THE HOLLOW TREE. Enjoy them free!
The Night Train - 2/24/2012
Something was tickling the back of Annie’s mind. Something that she knew was there, but she felt like she didn’t want to know. The image of the train’s light slicing through darkness shook her again as the boy’s wailing started to die down.The King's Knight - 2/3/2012
No one could believe that a hero could be so ugly. They don’t have to believe it—they see his face only when it is covered by his helmet.He is not like my husband.All Our Many Secrets - 1/20/2012
When we were seven, it was the names of boys we thought were cute. We pinky swore to take the names of each others’ would-be future husbands to our graves.First Sight - 1/6/2012
Bang.That’s the closest I can come to a description of how I felt. Her eyes were big and brown and seemed to hit me in the stomach like a physical force.Independence Day - 11/18/2011
I snap my suitcase shut. It’s a classy vintage number—maybe I should have thought about how much space it’d take up in my dorm room when I saw it at the thrift shop, but I couldn’t help myself. It was so pretty.Bullet - 10/29/2011
I can’t remember where I am or how I got here. Can’t remember the enemy who has shot me, even. Can’t fathom who could hate me so much. All I know now is that I am dying and alone—that there is a hole torn through me and that the poets are right.Light the Sea - 10/7/2011
It was tradition. On the last day of Autumn before the oncoming death of Winter, lights are set adrift on the sea to carry prayers for the safe return of our men, lost on far-off waves, far-off shores.Capable - 09/16/2011
He headed towards the beverages, reached in for a sports drink, gritting his teeth as the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt chafed against his wrists, where the skin was raw and red. He chuckled softly. Finally free of their metal restraints, covered in soft cotton, the welts there ached more than they had in years.The Night the Sky Split - 09/02/2011
It was all over the news. The Milky Way would be extra-visible due to atmospheric somethingorother. The scientist were explaining it left and right. The pictures, they said, would be breathtaking. And they were.But no one saw what I saw.Gnome Migration - 08/19/2011
I was noticing it more and more. The gnomes were going missing. Disappearing one at a time. There were only about six left. Well, six, and Bopper’s hand.